If Only I Could Take Your Place
by DownInTheDirt
Summary: This is the first time that Portia has had to send someone she cared about to fight to the death, and it's an experience that she's not eager to repeat. A simple one-shot of the final goodbyes between Peeta Mellark and his stylist, before the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. Rated K. Please read and review!


**Author's Note:- I always seem to have ideas for one-shots when I have essays to do. But you know what? I'm just going to write them anyway. **

**This one is pretty simple...I would have liked to have seen Portia say goodbye to Peeta before he entered the arena, so I decided I would explore that angle for myself and write this!**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters starring or mentioned in this story belong to me. I wish they did, but they don't. They are the property of Suzanne Collins. **

The sound of the door opening disconcerted her a little, causing her to look up. The door closed as quickly as it had opened, but now there was somebody else in the Launch Room with her. Peeta.

Without even stopping to think about it, she crossed the room in a few short strides, and enveloped the boy in her arms. In the short time that Portia had known her tribute, she had grown to love him. Almost like a son. Even though he was about to be sent to fight to the death, Peeta had seemed totally relaxed around her in the days that they had known eachother. He hadn't been at all how she had anticipated her first tribute to be; in all the years that she had watched the Games (admittedly, she had never wanted to watch them, but her family had forced her), she had seen most of the tributes as anxious, frightened children who were resigned to the fact that they had to die before their time; Peeta was different. She found herself able to loosen up around him; able to joke around with him and not having to worry about accidentally saying the wrong thing.

This made things easier for her. She would have had no idea how to comfort someone who was visibly terrified. If Peeta was scared, which she knew he must have been, he was extremely good at concealing it.

In spite of all of this, saying goodbye was never going to be easy.

Finally, she pulled away and gave him a tiny, reassuring smile. She turned her back on him for a second to unhook his waterproof jacket from the hook on the wall, and she helped him into it, all the time trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks.

_Thirty seconds._

The automated voice made her jump, and for the first time since he'd entered the room, Peeta made eye contact with his stylist, looking concerned.

"Don't worry about me." Portia said quickly, but firmly. "You just worry about yourself." Her voice wavered slightly; she knew that they were running out of time. "You know if I could take your place…." She trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

_Twenty seconds._

"You can't anyway. You're too old, and a girl." Peeta responded, with the ghost of a smile upon his face. Portia pulled him into one last hug, lingering a little before kissing his forehead. Peeta paused for a few seconds, before speaking again. "Thank you…for everything. I wouldn't have stood a chance without you." This alone made Portia want to cry, and it took all of her strength to hold it in.

_Ten seconds._

"I love you, Peeta." She called to him as he stepped into the tube. The seconds seemed to pass quickly after that, for in what seemed like a millisecond, Peeta had been transported up through the tube, into the arena, and out of her reach. To a place where she would lose him to the Capitol's clutches.

Feeling no desire to be in that suffocating room any longer, Portia ran to the door as fast as her heels would allow, and rushed down the corridor, fighting back the urge to vomit, or cry, or both. She didn't even know where she was running to, and she didn't even feel fatigued from the physical exertion; she just knew she wanted to get out of the building as quickly as possible, before she strangled every peacekeeper there.

She was only forced to stop running when she collided into something firm. A body. Cinna.

"Portia?" He murmured, steadying her.

She looked up at him, and she felt her heart break – he looked as lost and alone as she felt.

When he held her in his arms, she couldn't contain it any longer. She buried her face in his chest and cried.

**Author's Note:- I know it's not very long, but I didn't really intend it to be. I hope you liked it! I'm not sure what to make of it, but as long as YOU like it, that's good enough for me!**

**Please review. I love them more than rainbows! **

**x**


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